A Father Figure
by Darklight-phoenix
Summary: Professor Snape is forced to take Harry in for the summer and tutor him in Potions and Occlumency. This story takes place after Harry's 3rd year. Severitus type story - NOW BETA-ED
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

**I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS. ALL BELONG TO J. K. ROWLING**

It seemed to be a typical summer afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron. People were rushing in and out to eat for lunch breaks and the roar of chatter within the building could be heard from several shops away. Hidden and secluded in one of the rooms were two wizards that very much hated each other.

Harry looked at Snape as he paced the wooden floors, walking from the only door to the small window on the opposite wall and back again. His dark hair fell over his face with every step, and there were faint lines under his eyes that showed obvious signs of stress. Though the dark prince kept his sentiments to himself, anxiety was evident in his furrowed brows as the sounds of shuffling feet against wood echoed throughout the room.

Harry sat in the corner, off to the side and out of the way where his hands were folded in his lap. The young wizard felt the tension coil around his body and awkwardness settle in the bottom of his stomach at the unwelcome situation he found himself in.

"Professor Snape, do I really have to live with you this summer?" Harry asked somewhat hesitantly.

Snape stopped pacing, rotated on the spot with his usual grace and fixed Harry with his trademark stony glare. This whole situation had Harry feeling as though he was being punished, severely. It was like the beginning of a never-ending nightmare.

"Unfortunately Potter, you do. Although we both loathe the idea of residing anywhere near one another," the man sneered, "you'll be pleased to know that you will not be returning to the Dursleys' for the rest of this summer. It is the Headmaster's wish that I teach you Occlumency and tutor you in Potions. Talents in which you most certainly lack, however excellent you may think you are," Snape drawled in a low rumble, sarcasm laced in his voice.

"The Headmaster, in his infinite and inexplicable wisdom, has expressed a desire for you to reside with me. Furthermore, we are to address each other with our respectful titles," Snape said clearly uncomfortable with this idea. He glanced at Potter, and immediately wished he hadn't. He saw Lily Evans' beautiful emerald green eyes staring straight back at him.

'_Damn those eyes, and damn that old coot, forcing me to look after the brat for the holidays! If he thinks that this will change anything, he will be sorely mistaken.' _He quickly turned away._ No better than his father: arrogant and spoiled,' _the man reminded himself silently.

Snape continued with difficulty that even Harry could see. "In other words, I shall address you by your first name and you shall address me as Professor or Sir. Understood?"

Harry immediately nodded as Snape's voice left no room for argument. "Yes, Professor Snape."

"Po-Harry..." he stuttered slightly over the unused name, "we shall be traveling by portkey to my house. Get up and follow me."

When Harry didn't immediately stand up, Snape turned and took a giant step towards Harry, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him from the seat. Snape, who loathed having to make any body contact with the boy who reminded him so much of the raven-haired boy's father, quickly released him. With swift movements, the professor was in front of the door before the boy even knew what was happening.

"Well?" Snape snapped, turning to see the motionless boy, "Are you just going to stand there? Do try and keep up."

Without waiting for a response, Snape swirled around, robes billowing like storm clouds behind him as they left their private room. Harry scrambled over his feet to keep up.

Snape walked in a brisk pace, practically gliding down the stairs into the main room of the Leaky Cauldron. The only person there was the wizened, slightly hunchbacked bartender, Tom, who eyed the pair suspiciously as they descended down the stairs. Snape returned the key to their room to the silent bartender without uttering a single word. Without even checking to see if Harry was following, Snape walked towards the Muggle entrance and disappeared into the grey London streets.

Harry followed at a slightly slower pace and kept his eyes on the tall professor, now guardian for the rest of the summer, while navigating through the crowds. Finally the man picked a less crowded side road to exit and Harry quickly followed. It wasn't a side road as Harry had originally thought, but a dimly lit alley. The narrow sided alley was a dumping ground for litter that stank of rotting meat, prompting Harry to scrunch his nose in disgust.

Snape stood a good ten feet from the main road, waiting impatiently for Harry to catch up. His arms were tightly folded across his chest, and were it deemed appropriate, Harry was sure his foot would be agitatedly tapping the tarmac. When Harry was beside him, he held out a little potion-book-made-portkey for the boy to touch. Even then, he was still sneering at the boy down his nose. Once both had a hold, the older wizard activated the charm and the two were pulled away with an angry, gut-wrenching jolt.

Harry landed with a thud on a hard concrete floor, his knees buckling below him and sending him to the hard ground.

"I really do hate portkeys," he muttered, just loud enough for Snape to hear.

"Graceful as always, Potter," The Potions Master quipped, his lip curling.

He took his time to sneer at Harry in disdain when the boy climbed unsteadily to his feet. Snape took off down the road they had landed on; Harry kept trying to do his best to keep up.

Suddenly, Snape stopped, causing Harry to almost run into him. The boy looked around in curiosity to see that they stood in front of a rundown house with boarded up windows. He could not believe that this was where Snape lived.

The house looked like it could collapse at any moment. Half the roof had caved in; rubble, dust and broken bricks lay scattered over the weed-strewn lawn. The walls that were still standing had a sooty black coating and flaking cement, only just holding them together. However, before Harry could ask him anything, Snape had got his wand out and muttered an inaudible incantation.

"What are we…" Harry's voice trailed off as the shack shimmered and began to morph behind what looked like a heat haze. He could only gasp as the hovel of a building transformed into a beautiful white manor. The front of the garden was no longer filled with junk and weeds but instead, a series of different plants blossomed, almost covering the door.

Taken by their beauty, Harry could not divert his eyes from the awe-inspiring manor and the majestic lilies that were blooming up the sides. It was beautiful to behold, yet it felt so strange to the young Gryffindor that this place could be associated with someone as morbid and intimidating as Snape. The juxtaposition of the dark wizard against the spectacular backdrop almost induced a chuckle from the boy, as he found the stark visual contrast amusing.

'_Snape was in Slytherin. Surely he shouldn't have flowers growing in his garden. Shouldn't it be skulls and crossbones?' _Harry thought sarcastically.He couldn't believe that he was going to be living here; the difference between Dudley's old room and the grandeur of the building in front of him was, to say the least, drastic. He could only imagine what luxuries lay waiting inside.

"This is my house, Potter," Snape scowled down at the boy, already forgetting to use his first name. "I realise that it's most likely not as grand as what you're used to, but you better learn to live with it. You will be staying here the rest of the summer and I won't tolerate any foolish behaviour." His voice was harsh and left no room for disobedience. "You're now keyed into the wards" he drawled in his typical insulting manner. Harry felt a stab of annoyance at his teacher's assumption that he had lived anywhere grand.

Snape clearly had not met the Dursleys', an experience he would never wish on anyone, although Harry felt that he could make an exception for Snape. The older man had already made his way to the front door and beckoned for Harry to follow with one sharp flick of the wrist. "Get in," he punctuated sharply while observing Harry like a hawk. Harry hesitantly scrambled over and stepped into the thresholds of Severus Snape's home, trying to forgo the feeling of stepping into a snake pit, the same feeling he had felt in his second year when he had acted as one of Malfoy's lackeys to get some information about the Chamber of Secrets out of him.

Snape was a Slytherin after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters. They all belong to J. K. Rowling**

After leaving Harry with explicit directions not to touch anything in his home, Severus Snape went to collect the boy's belongings from his aunt and uncle's home at Number 4, Privet Drive. The younger wizard had told him all about what the Dursley's were like, but Snape just assumed that the majority of this was Harry trying to be dramatic and gain even more sympathy of the people surrounding him. _'Exactly what his good-for nothing father would have done,'_ Snape thought to himself.

Number 4 Privet Drive looked just the same as every other house in the street, and the street after that, and the street after that. The two-storey house was positively plain, boring almost, perfectly groomed as if the inhabitants believed they were being judged by the position of the flowers in their front garden.

The home was very…bland. A silver car was parked on the drive and the door was painted a dark brown. Netted curtains hung in the living room, and upon looking through the window, Snape found that he could see a cream sofa and a large fireplace, which stood in the corner of the room. He could tell just from that one sight that this visit was going to be interesting, while the wail that came from inside told him that it was also going to be unpleasant.

"Mummy! I want more food," An intolerable voice howled from within the chasms of the house, followed by a loud banging that now filled the silence that Snape could only assume was a fork smacking off a table. Well, this child seemed very demanding.

'_That must be the cousin Potter mentioned.' _Severus' thoughts were interrupted by an even louder wail from the boy,_ 'Don't muggles teach their children any manners? No wonder Potter is so disrespectful. It's in the genes' _Severus thought, turning his thoughts to focus on certain unhappy memories of a certain James Potter, forgetting for a small moment that Harry was also Lily's son.

"Okay Dinky Duddydims. Here you go," Petunia said, her high pitch voice, sounding like an un-tuned violin, grating off Severus' ears and making him tempted to turn straight around and just buy Harry new things, so he didn't have to enter that godforsaken place.

Severus just couldn't do that. He had made a promise to Harry that he would get his things and, although he was reluctant to, he intended to keep that promise. He knocked on the front door; rapping his knuckles soundly on the wood to assure he would be heard over the screeching symphony of simpering muggles. He waited and waited. At last, Snape was greeted with a large eyeball peeping through the hole in the door.

"I can see you. Please open the door or I will be forced to plant a _'stinging hex' _on you," Snape said coolly, enunciating his words in hopes that the Muggle at the door would be able to hear him over the cacophony of sounds in the kitchen.

No response.

The eyeball disappeared from the hole, quickly, as soon as it's owner realised who was at the door; it was almost as if they thought running away from wizards was a viable option. Snape was not a patient man and didn't have time for these muggle games. He whipped out his wand and uttered "Alohomora"

The whale of a man, whom Severus presumed to be Harry's uncle, cowered away in fright.

"My name is Severus Snape, and I am the Potions Master from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I have come to collect Mr Potters' things," he told the beast of a man.

"You!" A shrill voice shouted. It didn't take a genius to work out who it was. Petunia hurriedly ran from the kitchen, down the hall and quickly shut the front door, a frantic expression glued to her face.

"You are the kid who tainted my sister with that… that unnaturalness," she screeched at him. "How dare you use that thing in front of everyone," she hissed pointed frantically at his wand in horror hoping the neighbours wouldn't hear. Severus sneered at her; he had always hated her and how she treated Lily.

"This, you horse," Snape said sarcastically, lifting up his wand "is called magic."

Vernon grew purple, with rage, when he heard that word, which was expressly forbidden in their household.

Snape smirked in satisfaction at their reaction; maybe messing with these muggles would be at least worth the entertainment. But no, he had a job to do, and he honestly wanted to get out of this house as soon as he possibly could.

"Show me to your nephew's room. He'll be spending the rest of his summer away," he commanded his upper lip, curling into a familiar sneer and advanced upon them, not waiting for them to move.

Vernon stuttered, the cheeks of his red face wobbling, before moving aside for the Professor after his wife whispered something about the neighbours being able to hear.

Petunia glared at him and said, "Good. We were hoping those other _freaks_ who picked him up would keep him. His room is upstairs and his things are in the cupboard." They had already been notified by the Headmaster that someone would come to collect the Freak's things and were happy that for once they would have a 'normal' summer without worrying if the neighbours would notice anything.

Snape's eyes narrowed at her as soon as the word 'freak' left her lips. He remembered how much pain and hurt Petunia caused Lily when she called her that.

Resisting the urge to place some sort of nasty curse on the whole horrid family, he made his way up the stairs and entered the largest room, which was filled with junk and toys littered everywhere. Television sets, most of them with the screen punched through, sat upon scratched-upon tables. Clothes and unmatched socks made a sort of carpet upon the floor. _'Spoilt, just as I predicted'_ he thought, satisfied with how the sight of the room agreed with his feelings towards Potter. He knew that Harry Potter was just as spoiled as James Potter had been. Lily was nothing like her husband or her son. Or this crazy family, for that matter

"Mummy, what's Mr Vampire doing in my room?" Dudley, the boy who'd obviously been whining for more food earlier, yelled in a frightened voice, as he saw the shadow disappear up the stairs and into the cluttered room.

"Get out of our Dudley's room!" boomed Vernon's voice, his face growing purple again, "You do not have the right to waltz into our lives. Just get the brat's things and leave! It's Freaks like you, doing freaky things that we kept the dreaded boy locked up in his cupboard" Vernon yelled in anger at Snape, scared that he might use another magic spell. They wanted the wizard out of here.

Severus blinked, before he registered what the obese man was saying. He then realised that the room with locks and bolts was the lair of the so called Chosen One's'. It wasn't fit for an animal let alone a human being. The cat flap sitting at the bottom of the door had food stains from Petunia trying to stuff the remnants of her meal through it for him to eat.

'_How dare she-they...how dare they treat their own nephew like some sort of criminal?' _Snape had wanted to believe that Harry had been a nuisance and caused the family much turmoil and grief in order to deserve such punishment. However, judging from what he knew of Petunia and everything else he had seen, he couldn't bring himself to think those thoughts.

As much as Snape hated the boy, he just couldn't bring himself to believe that Petunia would treat their own nephew, the only son of her dead sister in such a cruel fashion. Surely she would want to treat him as least half as well as she did her son.

Snape collected Harry's photo album, clothes, spare quills, potion notes, some chocolates that the Gryffindor probably had to keep hidden from the fat lump downstairs and mince pies that were probably needed for survival when living with the Dursleys'. Then, he let Harry's owl free after telling her where Potter was, and shrunk her cage, along with everything else to fit in his pocket. He scanned the room once more, before making his way back downstairs to fetch the rest of the boy's things from the cupboard.

'_Perhaps the boy does study then?' _Snape mused to himself._ 'No, if he stayed here the whole time, at least Potter would have read the entire potions book or at least attempted to hand in better homework than the typical chicken scratch; lazy as usual.' _he tried to reason with himself, still not wanting to believe that Potter didn't live the life of luxury he'd believed the boy had for all those previous years.

He grabbed Harry's trunk, Firebolt and his school books, from where they'd been stuffed into the cupboard. Severus didn't know why, but he somehow had a feeling Harry had spent a lot of time in that confined space, especially after what Harry's uncle had revealed.

"This isn't the last you'll hear of me, Dursleys" Snape snarled finally, allowing his anger at last to get the best of him before storming out of the front door, his robes whirling behind like some fierce angel of death.

The expression on Vernon's face was one of pure terror as the door slammed closed behind the Potions Master.

"Is the vampire coming back?" Dudley asked in a frightened voice, coming to his parents with a box of chocolates in his pudgy hands.

"No Duddy-poo. It's not a vampire. Just another one of Potter's Freaky friends," Petunia answered for her husband, her eyes trying to hide any terror that may have been lurking there.

"Thank goodness. We had no garlic left so I was worried," The Young Whale said before waddling away, stuffing yet another chocolate in his mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**I DO NOT OWN ANY CHARACTERS. ALL BELONG TO J.K. ROWLING**

Harry clasped his hands together and wrung them nervously. Every so often he would chance a glance at the elegant pendulum clock resting atop the fireplace mantel to gauge the time that had passed. The young wizard felt out of place, surrounded by the Victorian-style furniture that reminded him of the Dursleys pretentiously decorated sitting room. Harry was not welcome in that room, except to clean.

Harry had brought nothing with him, save for the clothes he had worn for the day and his wand, the handle of which could be seen peeking out from the front pocket of his faded denim jeans. He had expected dungeons with dragon skeletons and chains; somehow the normalcy of Snape's abode did not sit well with him.

Harry glanced at the ticking clock again. Only eight minutes had passed since his Potions Professor had departed. Despite the Dursleys typical animosity, Harry hoped his relatives would not give Snape a hard time when he arrived on their doorstep. Though, knowing the Dursleys, they would probably rejoice at the idea of getting rid of their freak nephew for the whole summer. With Snape's patronising sneer and vampiric attire, Harry hoped the menacing man would scare the living daylights out of them. Harry snickered, suddenly picturing it and wishing that he could have accompanied his professor just to witness their reactions. Great and amusing things always happened whenever the magical world collided with his strict and_ normal_ family.

In particular, he remembered his eleventh birthday and how his cousin had cowered behind his mother like a spooked cat the first time someone had come to fetch Harry. Of course, the fetcher had been Hagrid in all his half-giant glory, and even Harry had been somewhat frightened by the man's sheer stature and girth. However, by the time Hagrid had turned Dudley into a pig-boy, Harry had gotten over his fear enough to laugh with him.

A sudden loud popping noise broke the teen out of his musings. Looking in the direction the sound had originated from, Harry found himself staring into the tennis-ball shaped eyes of a _very_ familiar creature.

"D-D-Dobb-by…" stammered a bewildered Harry Potter, surprised by his old friend's sudden appearance. "W-what are you doing here?" he continued.

"Dobby has been sent by Master Dumblydore, sir, to look after Master Potter and his Potions Professor during the summer holidays and to keep him safe, and-and Dobby answered yes straight away," Dobby said, his eyes lighting up with unbridled excitement.

Harry did not think that anything like the Chamber of Secrets was going to happen _here again_, especially since Headmaster Dumbledore had sent Dobby here for his own protection. But – though he doubted the necessity of the security measure – he did not doubt the Headmaster. As much as he would hate to admit, strange things often occurred when Harry was involved; strangers showed up unexpectedly and apparated right in front of him. None of this meant he would let his guard down.

Much to Harry's dismay, the excited house-elf started bouncing up and down energetically like an excited child on a sugar rush, whilst rambling on about how excited he was to spend time with Harry. Harry became extremely nervous when several items floated around the room. Bad things had happened the last time elf magic was involved, even though it was Dobby's own way of protecting Harry from the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.

Snape would be less than pleased if anything in his house were to be even slightly damaged upon his return. Not that he was scared of Snape or anything, but Harry did not see the point in making him angry. Snape would probably blame him anyway.

"Ssssh! Dobby, I know you're excited, but please calm down," Harry whispered hastily to the elf. "Snape will be very mad."

The teen took notice of how the house-elf's lower lip began to quiver. "Master Snape will be angry… a-a-a-at D-D-Dobby?" the poor house-elf's eyes grew to the size of saucers and he looked like his heart was about to break.

"Y-Yes, Professor Snape will be very, very angry, but not with Dobby," Harry explained tentatively. Scrambling for an excuse, he said; "He will be very, very angry with me, and –– "

Apparently Harry had said the wrong thing. If anything, Dobby looked even more upset at this explanation.

"B-But, Dobby does not want Master Potter to get into trouble," the creature wailed. With a mad scramble for the nearest blunt object, Dobby grabbed the nearby lamp and prepared to hit himself. "Bad, Dobby, bad Do ––"

Harry was not in the mood to deal with this moment of déjà vu. He struggled with Dobby to get the lamp and looking him straight in the eye, he asked; "Did Snape know that Professor Dumbledore sent you?"

Dobby managed to stop whimpering long enough to shake his head.

Harry felt extremely uncomfortable being called Master, mostly fuelled by past experiences, and how Quirrel and the Basilisk had referred to someone as their Master.

"And-and _please_, don't call me Master. You're my friend, Dobby…Just call me Harry."

Dobby's eyes grew enormously large and started to water. This soon turned to uncontrollable sobbing, and Harry awkwardly placed his hand on the elf's shoulder, aiming to comfort the poor creature. Unfortunately, Dobby's wailing only became louder as round fat tears rolled down his cheeks while he uttered a mostly incomprehensible string of words about the _Great_ Harry Potter being so, so kind to a creature such as himself.

_This_ was the sight that greeted Professor Snape when he entered the room, robes trailing behind him in a mock spectre of shadows. He grimaced as – having just returned from his visit to the Dursley household – he was to be welcomed home to not only the company of Potter's spawn, but to this wailing creature as well.

"Potter," the man hissed in a deceptively calm tone, before scowling at the accused. Harry pictured little black snakes hissing as the man rasped, "Who gave you permission to summon this house-elf to my manor? I gave you explicit instructions not to _touch _anything or _contact _anyone. Perhaps I needed to spell it out for you Potter." Snape spat the last phrase like a curse.

Harry rolled his eyes; he had not been in Snape's house for even an hour, and already he was being scolded for something he had not done. Unfortunately, Snape noticed his expression. Before Snape could berate his student further, however, the house-elf began yapping once again.

"Master Snape, sir," the house-elf stumbled over his words, fearful as he was at the sight of the Head of Slytherin House, "I-I is Dobby, sir. He-Headmaster Dumblydore s-sent me to a-assist you and M-Master Potter, sir." Dobby, however terrified of Snape, instinctively moved to shield Harry from the imposing man.

Snape narrowed his eyes. "I know who you are," he snapped. "Tell _Headmaster Dumbledore_ that your assistance is not required."

Snape sneered down at the elf, before a flicker of uncertainty passed across his glare. He appeared to reconsider his proclamation. "On second thought, let him know that we will call for you when you are needed."

The house-elf looked relieved and smiled. Big eyes shining, the house elf humbly responded, "Thank you, Master Snape and Master Potter. I wills be waiting to hear when Master Potter needs him." Dobby gave one final bow, so low that his nose almost touched the floor, before the house-elf finally disapparated from sight.

Harry sighed in relief as Snape sent Dobby away. Although Dobby was a good and loyal friend, having the house-elf around all the time could end up being more of a nuisance.

"Potter," Snape said, "We need to talk".

The teen wanted to raise the issue about honouring the agreement they had earlier that day regarding Snape addressing Harry by his first name. Harry thought it would be rather funny to ask Snape, but changed his mind the second he saw the look on his professor's face.


End file.
